Set Sail
by Deandra
Summary: Theomund eagerly learns a new skill. Fluffy little ONE-SHOT. Part 198 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 198 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Reader Camilla cranked through all 197 (actually 196 since one is missing) Elfwine Chronicles (in just 48 hours – a new record?). At the end, she mentioned wanting to see another young Theomund story, and possibly that is what set me to thinking of this. Not sure why all the rain in my recent stories; possibly all the mess on the East Coast from Hurricane Irene (near the time I began writing this). **_

**Set Sail**

**(Jul, 15 IV)**

Erchirion ran a hand through his hair, noting that it was almost dry. _Just in time to go back out into the rain_, he thought ruefully. A summer storm had blown in off the water and usually that made for lazy days when most folks tried to stay warm and dry indoors. But he had agreed to go over the shipping ledgers with his father, so, after delaying for more than an hour hoping it would ease, he had finally ventured forth. His cloak had kept his clothing relatively dry, but he had never much cared for anything covering his head, and thus arrived with sopping hair. A towel had removed the worst of it, but he had not been in the palace long enough for it to completely dry.

His step faltered as he passed the dining room, and he backed up, having caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. It was Lothiriel's youngest son, Theomund, sitting at the table and scowling out at the storm through the glass doors that opened onto the patio. His chin rested on his arms as his legs kicked idly, but there was annoyance in his entire bearing.

Entering, he slipped into a chair next to the boy, asking, "Is something the matter, little one?"

The child glanced briefly at him before turning back to the rain slashing at the glass and muttering, "It is raining and I cannot go to the shore!" Before Erchirion could respond to this, he added grumpily, "Why does it matter if it is raining? I get wet in the water anyway!"

Erchirion chuckled at this logic, which he could not entirely refute, but explained, "That is certainly true, and if it were that simple, it would not matter. But in storms like this the sea becomes very dangerous. The waves are much larger and they can come in suddenly and sweep you off your feet. Even strong swimmers have sometimes drowned in such wild waves." He rose and held out a hand. "Come with me."

Curious, Theomund slid off his chair and took his uncle's hand to be led down the hall to a room that had windows overlooking the shoreline. Erchirion pushed the door open slightly so they could better see out, and pointed to where the waves were crashing heavily on the beach. "See? It would not be very pleasant to be down there just now. Better to wait until things are calmer and it is safe again."

The child seemed to understand, but was still obviously disappointed. Erchirion thought a moment and then asked, "Would you like me to show you the game I used to play on days such as this, when I was just a lad?"

Theomund looked up and nodded eagerly, always interested in learning something new, especially if it meant an end to the boredom that had claimed him.

Erchirion led his nephew to the library on the first floor of the palace, drawing a second chair behind the large oak desk so they could sit next to each other. Once Theomund was settled in his chair, kneeling to be at a better height to the desk, Erchirion drew a stack of writing paper from a drawer. Placing one in front of himself, he said, "I always loved boats, and when I could not be outside with the real thing, I would make paper boats and float them inside. Watch carefully and I will show you how they are made."

He began folding the paper, describing each step to the engrossed boy, who was now leaning on his hands to hover over the paper and better see how it was done. A grin of delight split his face when Erchirion finished the first boat and enthusiastically he yelped, "I want to do one!"

Scooting closer, Erchirion guided him through each fold, giving tips on the way to make the best boats. "The tighter you are able to make the folds, the longer it will last in the water. Eventually the water seeps into the paper and it will sink, but with tight folds that takes longer to happen. I got some of my boats to float for more than an hour," he advised, a note of pride in his voice.

They spent another half hour working on making boats, and then they gathered them up and took them upstairs to Theomund's bed chamber. "The bath makes an excellent place for sailing boats," he smiled. "My mother always had to clear all the sunken boats out of the water before she could give me my bath – another good reason for doing it!" At Theomund's appreciative grin, Erchirion bit back the guilt he felt at doing this to his sister. She was _not_ going to thank him for that particular bit of advice to her son!

Erchirion turned on the taps and began filling the sunken tub, warning the boy, "You must be very careful and not get too near the water when you are playing. Your mother will be furious if you fall in."

"I will be careful," Theomund assured him, his eyes never leaving the rising water.

Though Erchirion might question that, he at least knew the boy could swim, having taught Theomund himself, so other than a dunking, he would likely be safe. Once the tub had filled high enough to easily reach the water, they began setting their paper boats afloat. Erchirion showed him various tricks for playing with them, including using the fire bellows to create a 'wind' to send them scudding across the tub.

At length, however, he knew he needed to get home. "Enjoy yourself, little one," he said, rising to his feet. "I will see you later." And with that Erchirion headed off, content that he had done his part in keeping Lothiriel's son amused on a dreary rainy day at Dol Amroth. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he had set in motion.

Theomund had been happily sailing his boats for nearly an hour when Theodwyn put in appearance. "What are you doing?" she asked, kneeling down to watch.

"Making my boats sail," he replied, concentrating on creating just the right amount of air from the bellows to send a boat across the tub without overtipping it. "Uncle Erchirion showed me how."

"Can I try?" Theodwyn asked after several minutes.

Reluctantly, Theomund allowed her one of his precious boats to play with, and they occupied the next few hours doing so, until all the boats were finally at the bottom of the tub. At that point, Theodwyn lost interest and trotted off to find something more amusing to do. Theomund gazed upon his submerged ships for several long minutes, before jumping up and dashing off to the library for more paper. The drawer where Erchirion had gotten it had a large stash, so he grabbed as much as he could carry and returned to his room. Settling comfortably on the floor, he began folding in earnest.

His nurse had checked in on him periodically, both while Erchirion was there and as he and Theodwyn played. Having no problem with what they were doing, particularly since it had been guided by the Queen's brother, she had allowed them to continue. Finding young Theomund folding paper into boats still seemed harmless enough, though he did balk somewhat when she wanted him to come eat his supper. For little more than the time it took to gulp down his food, Theomund cooperated, and then instantly returned to his task.

He had decided to make an entire army of boats. He had often seen the many boats gathered down in the harbor, and thought it would be wonderful to make his own fleet. Erchirion had mentioned that sometimes he put grease on the bottom of the paper boats to help keep the water out and make them float longer. When the nurse was not looking, he had snuck a piece of fat off his plate at supper and hidden it in his pocket to use for that purpose.

His little fingers could only work so fast, and thus his fleet was slow to form. Too soon, Mama appeared and insisted he stop for the night and get into bed. "You may play with your boats again tomorrow, dearest, but for now you must sleep," she told him with a smile.

He relented only because he must, but asked, "Will you leave the water in the tub so I may begin sailing again in the morning?"

His sweet face was so fervently pleading, that she relented. There was little harm in his request. "Very well, but now you must go to sleep."

Dutifully he laid back on his pillow, as she kissed him goodnight and then turned to tuck Theodwyn in. But sleep was slow in coming for his mind was filled with boats and sailing and all that he wanted to do. He remembered that Uncle Erchirion had fashioned one much fancier boat that he said probably was too hard for Theomund to do just yet. Theomund very much wanted one of those to sail, and he felt sure he remembered how to do it.

He must have dozed for it was very dark when he awoke, and the candles had burned low. Someone had stoked the fire against the chill air of the night, and his sister slept contentedly in the next bed. He lay there for a time, growing more and more restless and eager to be back to his boat-building. It was hard to tell if it was late at night, but maybe it was very early morning and the sun would be up soon. If that was so, then he would just get up earlier than everyone else like Papa sometimes did.

Throwing back his covers, he slid silently to the floor and dragged his papers over in front of the fire. Once more he set to work folding boat after boat. Folding one like Uncle Erchirion's special had proved not so easy as he had hoped. Attempt after attempt went awry, but with great perseverance, he set aside his mistakes, pulled another piece of paper to him and began again. A long while later, he finally had a boat that seemed very similar to what he remembered.

He had hidden the piece of fat from his supper in a drawer, and now went to fetch it. Settling back down, he began rubbing it over the bottoms of all his boats. When he finished, he looked around, but was disappointed at the size of his fleet. It seemed he had been folding paper forever, but now that he counted, there did not seem to be all that many boats and he was out of paper.

He chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment, then bounded up and trotted for the door. The only thing to do was get more paper and continue working. He padded quietly through the empty halls on his little bare feet, not even bothered by the dark shadows cast by the torches that were still lit. Down the stairs he went, and pushed open the big library door. It was darker in here, but he remembered the way, and enough light was coming in from the hallway and moonlight through the window for him to make his way to the paper stash. Another large armload and he was eagerly off back to his room.

Outside the window, the moon continued its trek across the sky, while inside his room Theomund stayed completely engrossed in his task with singleminded aim. When the first hints of light turned the sky to a dull gray, he sat back with satisfaction as he eyed his flotilla. Gathering as many as he could carry without damaging them, he trekked back and forth between fire and tub, gently setting his fleet free upon the vast waters of his indoor sea.

With a warm feeling of accomplishment, he gazed raptly upon his creations, then, feeling tired after his long exertions, dragged a pillow over to lay upon as he watched them. In only a few minutes, his eyes had drifted shut and he slept contentedly upon his shore.

Usually, it was the nurse who came to get the children up and dressed in the morning, but having spent the previous day mostly occupied with a fussy baby Morwen, Lothiriel felt the need to be with her older children and so rose early to see to them personally.

Theodwyn still slept, no doubt worn out by her constant movement. When awake, she was rarely at rest, but little Theomund was not in his bed. Even stranger, his pillow was also gone. She knew her youngest son far too well to think this a coincidence, and cast her eyes around to determine what mischief he had gotten into already. It did not take long to spot him sprawled by the bath, a curious spot, she thought. Only as she drew nearer and saw the fruit of his labors did she understand, and smile ruefully as she folded her arms. She should have known that Erchirion's innocent lesson in ship-folding yesterday would not be an idle pasttime for this one! No, the child loved to build and construct, and here was the proof of it. Still, he had done a good job, as many were still afloat, though she could guess they had been in the water for some time.

Moving over to his work area, she realized why the boats were not yet submerged, and she wrinkled her nose at the piece of fat laying on the hearth, greasy and smelly. She gingerly picked it up and tossed it into the fire, acknowledging to herself that she probably did not want to know how he had managed to get it from the supper table to here without notice. Deciding she would let the children sleep longer, she returned to her own room to dress for the day.

xx

"We can discuss it with Father over supper," Elphir was saying to Eomer as they entered the palace of Dol Amroth, "but I am sure he will be agreeable on the matter. It would be a benefit to us as well as Rohan. Now that travel is easier from Minas Tirith, it is probably wise to get to work on the alternate route and make it a smoother passage."

The door to the library was open, with Imrahil's steward standing in the doorway. The Prince's voice carried to them as he instructed, "And order more writing paper. I had no idea that our supply was so depleted." The steward nodded his understanding, gave the men a brief bow as he moved around them, and continued on down the hall.

"We need writing paper?" Elphir questioned, going in to join his father. "That is curious. There was plenty just a few days ago."

"Alcathir tells me there is none in the desk, though I did not realize so much had been used." Imrahil shrugged and brushed aside that conversation to ask, "How did things go in Edhellond? I want to hear all about it. Will you join me for an early dinner?"

Eomer nodded. "Just let me drop my armor and check with Lothiriel, then I will meet you in the dining room."

Their agreement to this in his ears, Eomer moved to the stairs, climbing them eagerly. Even though he had only been gone overnight, he always delighted in reuniting with his family, and he knew Morwen's fretfulness due to teething was wearing on Lothiriel's nerves.

He raised a perplexed eyebrow as he passed the children's room, where servants were exiting carrying buckets of some sort of mess. Likely he would be better off not knowing what that was all about; either of his younger children might well be responsible.

Lothiriel was just laying a sleeping Morwen in her bed when he entered their chamber. She signaled for him to be quiet, and he went to the dressing area to remove his armor. A moment later, she joined him, slipping into his embrace and pressing a kiss to his lips. "Welcome home," she murmured, after a moment, smiling up at him.

"Indeed," he grinned, tightening his arms around her. "Is all well here? Imrahil wants to discuss our trip over the midday meal, and I am to join him now."

She chuckled, then asked, "What would you call 'well'? Theomund has enthusiastically learned a new skill, courtesy of my middle brother, and is showing his usual singlemindedness about it. He has been making paper boats with great fervor. At least the rain has stopped so he could go to the beach today. Perhaps that will get things back to usual for awhile."

Eomer felt a strange twinge, as though he was forgetting something, but if so, he could not think what it was. He turned his mind from it, despite a nagging feeling that Theomund's new interest had something to do with the servants he had seen. Still, he was sure Lothiriel had things completely in hand. "Will you join us for dinner, or would the talk of our trip only bore you?" he asked.

"I am not hungry just yet, and with Morwen sleeping and the children out with Daelwyn, I think I will rest for a bit before I dine," she replied. "At least the tooth seems to have broken through the gums, so hopefully now Morwen will not have so much discomfort."

He kissed her again, then headed to the door. "I will see you later, then, my love. Rest well, and send someone for me if you need me."

xxxxx

Lothiriel always enjoyed visits to her family, but she was also pleased to be returning to her own home. Over the years, the Mark had become a part of her, nearly as much as it was a part of Eomer. Though she loved Dol Amroth, and always would, she was sure that til her dying day she would think of Edoras as home.

The courtyard on the morning of their departure was a study in chaos. Servants came and went bringing the baggage out for loading on pack animals, while Eomer and Lothiriel attempted to gather their brood and get all the goodbyes said to everyone. Even though the children loved visiting the beach and the family in the south, they also loved riding and so were eager to return to the saddle. Later in the day, Lothiriel was sure there would be complaints about not staying longer at the shore, but for now the excitement of their journey eclipsed that concern.

At length, all was in readiness and everyone was mounted. At least Morwen would be more comfortable on the return trip and not so fretful. The large group slowly trailed out of the courtyard, making for the road home.

While the Dimholt was a shorter distance overall, traveling with young children meant the amount of time spent riding each day had to be briefer. The storm that had pounded Dol Amroth earlier in the week had fortunately blown itself out, and it looked to be mostly blue skies and sun for their trip.

By the time they rode into sight of Edoras, everyone was ready to be home. Servants met them upon arrival and quickly had all the baggage sorted to rooms, and food brought to refresh them. Everyone was tired that night, and slept well, but by the next day, the children were as full of energy as ever. Elfwine had disappeared early to find Freawine and share tales of his adventures in the south. Theodwyn quickly occupied herself with being constantly on the move, but Theomund settled down and remembered the new skill that Uncle Erchirion had taught him.

He had noticed the fine stream of water flowing from the horsehead at the bottom of the steps leading to Meduseld, and it occurred to him his boats would sail very well there. He had not found time to make more boats before he left Dol Amroth, though he had snuck some paper into his bag and brought it home. Daelwyn had put it on the desk in his room, and he sat down and got to work. Eventually, the small amount of paper he'd brought from the south was depleted, so he ventured to Papa's study to obtain more.

Papa was not there when he arrived, but he had seen where it was kept when he spent time keeping Papa company here. Sometimes Papa gave him some on which to draw pictures, so surely he would not mind his taking some now. He gathered an armful and returned to his room, where he diligently folded boat after boat all the morning long, stopping only to eat his noonday meal. Daelwyn insisted that he go down for a nap after eating, but he only managed a half hour of sleep before he was awake and back to his task.

At last, when mother came to fetch him for supper, all his paper had been transformed into boats. He knew it was too late to sail them today, and it would be dark soon so he would not be able to see them very well anyway, so he scooped them into a drawer for the next day.

The sun had barely cleared the horizon when a tiny figure padded out the back door of Meduseld and then slipped down to the bottom of the steps. The guards had been talking quietly and did not notice him passing in the dim light. Happily he placed his armful of boats next to him on the ground, and then one by one set them sailing down the hill. Once all were in the water, he jumped up to hurry alongside, eagerly watching their progress. At times, one or more would snag on the streambank, but he carefully used a stick to poke them free.

He was halfway down the hill, when he began to tire and finally decided to just sit and watch them. The sun was higher up so it was easier to follow their progress from one spot. After awhile, however, his tummy rumbled and he knew it would take time to climb the hill. He pushed to his feet and began the trudge back up to Meduseld to find his breakfast, deciding he could return afterward to see how far his boats had gotten.

xx

"My lord," Gamling asked, "have you been writing many letters? You have very little paper left in your drawer."

Eomer glanced at him as he exited from the breakfast chamber, and shook his head. "Not particularly. And I was gone for nearly a month on the trip to Dol Amroth. There was plenty of paper when I left. Perhaps Lothiriel had need of some."

"Perhaps," Gamling acknowledged. "Well, I will purchase more, either way."

The conversation was largely put from Eomer's mind as he began his day, but only an hour later, Eothain presented himself in the doorway of Eomer's study, an amused smirk on his face. When he did not immediately speak his purpose, Eomer ventured with a sigh, "Very well, tell me. Clearly something is amiss and you are delighting in sharing it with me."

Eothain set a large bucket down on Eomer's desk with a thunk. It was filled with a grayish-brown sludge, and Eomer raised a curious eyebrow after glancing at it. "So?" he pressed.

"My men have been collecting this from the stream. There was a blockage in the water just before the stream flowed under the wall, and when we checked, we found this," the big man explained.

"And?" Eomer was sure that was not the whole of the matter.

"And, I did some inquiring. Though they did not see him leave Meduseld, very early this morning your youngest son appeared at the front door, having come up the steps from the town. I have no proof, of course, but I am…suspicious of this…coincidence!"

Eomer rubbed his forehead and sighed again, sitting back in his chair. "Aye, likely not a coincidence. Let me see what I can learn about it."

Suddenly the memory of his conversation with Gamling returned to him, along with Lothiriel telling him of the mess Theomund had made in the bath at Dol Amroth while floating paper boats. With a groan he buried his face in his hands as understanding flooded through him.

Eothain eyed him with interest, and at length he explained, "I think I know what is going on. If I am right, then it is time I had a talk with Theomund about the proper use of paper."

After a moment, he glared up at his Captain. "Now that you have sons of your own, I would think you would cease to take such pleasure in alerting me to the mischief of my children!"

Eothain rumbled with laughter. "Nay, Lord! It is things like this that keep my king humble!" He set the bucket by the door and beat a hasty retreat before Eomer could find a retort for his cheeky remark.

In truth, Eomer could find as much humor in the situation as did his friend. During the remainder of his morning, he caught up on work that had been sidelined while he was gone. Yet every time he looked at the bucket of sludge, he could not help but chuckle and shake his head in wry amusement. At least laughing now might help him get it out of his system before confronting his son at noon.

Eomer arrived in the dining chamber to find a very unhappy child scowling at the table, his arms crossed. He had not expected this, but he seated himself next to Theomund for a talk while they waited for the rest of the family to put in appearance.

"You are upset about something?" the king asked at length.

Theomund's pout tightened and he nodded. Finally he blurted out, "Someone took all my boats, Papa! Will you catch them and punish them?"

His earnest expression almost caused Eomer to begin laughing again, but he managed to control himself. After a moment, he answered, "I know who took your boats, Theomund, and no I will not be punishing them. Mama told me that she scolded you for the mess you made in the bath at Dol Amroth with your boats. Did you not think that would happen here if you put them in the stream?"

"No," the boy replied, quite honestly. "The water is moving so they would not sink and make a mess as they did in the bath."

Now Eomer did smile. "Even in moving water, they do eventually sink, and the wet paper becomes very messy. Your boats stopped up the stream near the wall and made it very muddy. Eothain had to have some men clean it out, just like the servants had to clean out the bath in Grandfather's house."

Theomund considered this, then asked, "So where can I sail my boats then?"

Obviously the child didn't entirely grasp the idea that wet paper made a mess anywhere, and it took a moment for Eomer to think of a reply. By then Lothiriel and the other children were joining them, listening curiously to their conversation.

"Tell you what, Theomund, I will have Gamling show you how to make a wooden boat that will sail. Then you will not use all of our writing paper, and you will not make messes for others to clean. Only on special occasions may you make Uncle Erchirion's paper boats, and then only a few – not so many as you have been doing. But, when we return to Dol Amroth and visit Uncle Erchirion, you may make as many paper boats as you like and float them in his bath. Is that agreeable?"

Eomer dared not look at his wife when he offered this solution, which his son accepted. Possibly she would take him to task for the retaliation toward her brother. On the other hand, knowing Thiri, she just might think him justified! He very much _owed_ Erchirion for teaching Theomund this particular skill!

THE END

9/3/11 – 4/23/12

Elfwine is 14, Theodwyn is 7, Theomund is 5 and Morwen is about 17 months old.

_**End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.**_


End file.
